As he made semblance of his duty, would
Have put his knife into him.

K. Hen. A giant traitor!

Wol. Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,

And this man out of prison?

Q. Kath. God mend all!

K. Hen. There's something more would out of thee; What say'st?

Surv. After the duke his father,―with the knife,

He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,

Another spread on his breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenour
Was, Were he evil us'd, he would outgo
His father, by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.

K. Hen. There's his period,

He is attach'd ;

To sheath his knife in us.

ones;

For when they hold them, you would swear directly,

Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.
Sands. They have all new legs, and lame
ones; one would take it,

That never saw them pace before, the spavin,
A springbalt + reign'd among them.

Cham. Death! my lord,

Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, That, sure, they have worn out Christendom. How now?

What news, Sir Thomas Lovell ?

Enter Sir THOMAS LOVELL.

Lov. 'Faith, my lord,

I hear of none but the new proclamation
That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.

Cham. What is't for ?

Lov. The reformation of our travell'd gallants,

That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and

tailors.

Cham. I am glad, 'tis there; now I would pray our monsieurs

To think an English courtier may be wise,
And never see the Louvre. $

Lov. They must either

(For so run the conditions,) leave these remnants

Of fool and feather, that they got in France, With all their honourable points of ignorance, Pertaining thereunto, (as fights, and fireworks; Abusing better men than they can be,

Out of a foreign wisdom,) renouncing clean The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,

Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,

And understand again like honest men; Or pack to their old playfellows: there I take it,

They may, cum privilegio,* wear away The lag end of their lewdness, and be laugh'a at.

Sands. 'Tis time to give them physic, their Are grown so catching. [diseases

Cham. What a loss our ladies Will have of these trim vanities! Lov. Ay, marry,

There will be woe indeed, lords; the sly whore

sons

Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;
A French song, and a fiddle, has no fellow.
Sands. The devil fiddle them! I am glad
they're going;

(For, sure, there's no converting of them ;)

now

An honest country lord, as I am, beaten

A long time out of play, may bring his plain song,

And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r-lady,
Held current music too.

Cham, Well said, lord Sands;
Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.

Sands, No, my lord;

Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
Cham, Sir Thomas,

Whither were you a-going?

Lov. To the cardinal's; Your lordship is a guest too.

Cham, Oh! 'tis true;

This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
To many lords and ladies; there will be
The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.

Lov. That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,

A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us:
His dews fall every where.

Cham. No doubt, he's noble ;

He had a black mouth that said other of him. Sands. He may, my lord, he has wherewithal; in bim,

Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine :

Men of his way should be most liberal,
They are set here for examples.

Cham. True, they are so;

But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +

Your lordship shall along:-Come, good Sir Thomas,

We shall be late else, which I would not be. For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford, This night to be comptrollers.

Sands. I am your lordship's.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The Presence-Chamber in York

Place.

Hautboys. A small table under a state for the CARDINAL, a longer table for the guests. Enter at one door ANNE BULLEN, and divers Lords, Ladies, and Gentlewomen, as guests; at another door, enter Sir HENRY GUILDFORD.

Guild. Ladies, a general welcome from his grace

Salutes ye all: This night he dedicates

To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, In all this noble bevy, has brought with her One care abroad; he would have all as merry As first-good, company, good wine, good wel

Sands. Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal But half my lay-thoughts in him, some of these Should find a running banquet, ere they rested, I think would better please them: By my life, They are a sweet society of fair ones.

Lov. Oh! that your lordship were but now confessor

To one or two of these !

Sands. I would I were; They should find easy penance. Lov. 'Faith, how easy?

Sands. As easy as a down-bed would afford it. Cham. Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,

Place you that side, I'll take the charge of this: His grace is ent'ring.-Nay, you must not freeze;

Two women plac'd together makes cold weather: My lord Sands, you are one will keep them waking;

Pray, sit between these ladies.

Sands. By my faith,

And thank your lordship.-By your leave, sweet ladies:

[Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and
another Lady.

If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
I had it from my father.

Anne. Was he mad, Sir?

Sands. Oh! very mad, exceeding mad, in love

For so they seem: they have left their barge, and landed;

And hither make, as great ambassadors
From foreign princes.

Wol. Good lord chamberlain,

Go, give them welcome, you can speak the French tongue;

And pray receive them nobly, and conduct them

Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty Shall shine at full upon them :-Some attend him.

[Exit CHAMBERLAIN, attended. All arise, and Tables removed.

You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.

A good digestion to you all: and, once more, I shower a welcome on you;-Welcome all. Hautboys.-Enter the KING, and twelve others, as Maskers, habited like Shepherds, with sixteen Torch-bearers; ushered by the Lord CHAMBERLAIN. They pass di rectly before the Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.

A noble company! what are their pleasures? Cham. Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd

To tell your grace ;-That, having heard by fame

Of this so noble and so fair assembly

This night to meet here, they could do no
less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks; and, under your fair con-

duct,

Crave leave to view these ladies, and entreat
An hour of revels with them.

Wol. Say, lord chamberlain,

They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay theni

A thousand thanks, and pray them take their pleasures.

[Ladies chosen for the dance. The KING chooses ANNE BULLEN.

K. Hen. The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O

• Chair.

Choose my game.

1 Small cannon.

remony

Of bringing back the prisoner.

2 Gent. Were you there ?

1 Gent. Yes, indeed, was I.

2 Gent. Pray, speak, what has happen'd?

1 Gent. You may guess quickly what.

2 Gent. Is he found guilty?

1 Gent. Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon it.

2 Gent. I am sorry for't.

1 Gent. So are a number more.

2 Gent. But, pray, how pass'd it?

1 Gent. I'll tell you in a little. The great duke

Came to the bar; where, to his accusations,
He pleaded still, not guilty, and alleg'd
Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
The king's attorney, on the contrary,

Urg'd on the examinations, proofs, confessions,
Of divers witnesses; which the duke desir'd
To him brought, viva voce, to his face :
At which appear'd against him, his surveyor;
Sir Gilbert Peck, his chancellor; and John

Court,

Confessor to bim; with that devil-monk, Hopkins, that made this mischief.

2 Gent. That was he,

That fed him with his prophecies ?

1 Gent. The same.

All these accus'd him strongly; which he fain Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he

could not:

And so his peers, upon this evidence, Have found him guilty of high treason. He spoke, and learnedly, for life but all Was either pitied in bim, or forgotten.

Much

2 Gent. After all this, how did he bear himself?

1 Gent. When he was brought again to the bar,- to hear

His knell wrung out, his judgment,-he was stirr'd

With such an agony, he sweat extremely, And something spoke in choler, ill and hasty : But he fell to himself again, and, sweetly, In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. 2 Gent. I do not think he fears death. 1 Gent. Sure, he does not,

• Denco.

He never was so womanish; the cause He may a little grieve at.

2 Gent. Certainly,

The cardinal is the end of this.

1 Gent. 'Tis likely,

By all conjectures: First, Kildare's attainder
Then deputy of Ireland; who remov'd,

Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste tog
Lest he should help his father.

2 Gent. That trick of state Was a deep envious one.

1 Gent. At his return,

No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
And generally; whoever the king favours,
The cardinal instantly will find employment,
And far enough from court too.

2 Gent. All the commons

Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much They love and dote on; call him, bounteous Buckingham,

The mirror of all courtesy ;1 Gent. Stay there, Sir,

And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; Tip-staves before him, the axe with the edge towards him; halberts on each side: with him, Sir THOMAS LOVELL, Sir NICHOLAS VAUX, Sir WILLIAM SANDS, and common people.

2 Gent. Let's stand close, and behold him.
Buck. All good people,

You that thus far have come to pity me,
Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment,
And by that name must die: Yet, heaven bear

witness,

And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
Even as the axe falls, if I be uot faithful !
The law I bear no malice for my death,

It has done, upon the premises, but justice :
But those that sought it, I could wish more
Christians:

Be what they will, I heartily forgive them :
Yet let them look they glory not in mischief,
Nor build their evils on the graves of great

men;

For then my guiltless Flood must cry against them.

For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
More than I dare make faults. You few that

lov'd me,

And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave
Is only bitter to him, only dying,

Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
And lift my soul to heaven.-Lead on, o'God's

name.

Lov. I do beseech your grace, for charity, If ever any malice in your heart

Were hid against ine, now to forgive me frankly. Buck. Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive

you,

As I would be forgiven: I forgive all : There cannot be those numberless offences 'Gainst me, I can't take peace with: no black envy

Shall make my grave.-Commend me to his grace;

And, if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him, You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers

Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake me,
Shall cry for blessings on him; May he live
Longer than I have time to tell his years!
Ever belov'd, and loving, may his rule be,
And, when old time shall lead him to his

Lov. To the water side I must conduct your grace;

Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, Who undertakes you to your end.

Vaux. Prepare there,

The duke is coming: see the barge be ready;
And fit it with such furniture, as suits
The greatness of his person.

Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,

Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. When I came hither, I was lord high constable, And duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:

Yet I am richer than my base accusers,

That never knew what truth meant: 1 now seal it ;

And with that blood will make them one day groan for't.

My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
Who first rais'd bead against usurping Richard,
Flying for succour to his servant Banister,
Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,

Is found a truth now: for it grows again
Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain
The king will venture at it. Either the car-
dinal,

Or some about him near, have, out of malice
To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
That will undo her: To confirm this too,
Cardinal Campeius is arriv'd, and lately;
As all think, for this business.

1 Gent. 'Tis the cardinal;

And merely to revenge him on the emperor, For not bestowing on him, at his asking, The archbishoprick of Toledo, this is purpos'd. 2 Gent. I think you have hit the mark; But is't not cruel,

That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal

Will have his will, and she must fall.
1 Gent. 'Tis woful.

We are too open here to argue this;
Let's think in private more.

[Exeunt.

A little happier than my wretched father;
Yet thus far we are one in fortunes,-Both
Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd
most;

A most unnatural and faithless service!
Heaven has an end in all yet you that hear me,
This from a dying man receive as certain :
Where you are liberal of your loves, and coun-
sels,

Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends,

And give your hearts to, when they once per ceive

The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
Like water from ye, never found again
But where they mean to sink ye.

people,

All good

Pray for me! I must now forsake ye; the last hour

Of my long weary life is come upon me.
Farewell:

And when you would say something that is sad, Speak how I fell.-I have done; and God forgive me!

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train. 1 Gent. Oh! this is full of pity.-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads, That were the authors.

2 Gent. If the duke be guiltless, 'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, Greater than this.

1 Gent. Good angels keep it from us! Where may it be? You do not doubt my faith,

Sir?

2 Gent. This secret is so weighty, 'twill require A strong faith to conceal it.

1 Gent. Let me have it;

I do not taik much.

2 Gent. I am confident;

You shall, Sir: did you not of late days hear
A buzzing, of a separation

Between the king and Katharine ?

1 Gent. Yes, but it held not :

For when the king once heard it, out of anger He sent command to the lord mayor, straight To stop the rumour, and allay those tongues That durst disperse it.

2 Gent. But that slander, Sir,

• Great fidelity.

lace.

Enter the Lord CHAMBERLAIN, reading a Letter.

Cham. My lord,-The horses your lordship sent for, with all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the best breed in the north. When they were ready to set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by commission, and main power, took 'em from me; with this reason,-His master would be served before a subject, if not before the king: which stopped our mouths, Sir.

I fear he will, indeed; Well, let him have them. He will have all, I think.

Enter the Dukes of NORFOLK and SUFFOLK. Nor. Well met, my good

Lord Chamberlain.

Cham. Good day to both your graces.
Suf. How is the king employ'd ?
Cham. I left him private,

Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
Nor. What's the cause ?

Cham. It seems, the marriage with bis brother's wife

Has crept too near his conscience.
Suf. No, his conscience

Has crept too near another lady.
Nor. 'Tis so;

This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: That blind priest, like the eldest son of for tune,

Turns what be lists. The king will know him one day.

Suf. Pray God, he do! he'll never know him

self else.

Nor. How holily he works in all his busi